


Waves of Hyacinth

by gomushroom



Series: Rainy November [6]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: At this point of their relationship, they have to deal with one thing they haven’t truly experienced. Jealousy.
Relationships: Matsumoto Jun/Ohno Satoshi
Series: Rainy November [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/692910
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Waves of Hyacinth

**Author's Note:**

> Arashi has no chill this November so this went a bit later than expected! Still overwhelmed about and grateful for everything and I'm glad that I can finish this as November ends. I decided to update/repost this as one chapter only for the maximum fluff and smut punches. Writing this fic had put me through all kind of ~feelings~, so I could only hope reading this in its entirety will give you the similar experience. Thanks to D for the short discussion last year and giving me ideas to move forward. And, thank you mikunicchi for giving the messy drafts of this a read over ♥
> 
> Ohno-san, once again, Happiest Bisday <3!

The welcoming sound of the Matsumoto shop bell warms Ohno but his small smile fades when he steps into the shop and finds a sight he hadn't been expecting at all.

Matsumoto is not alone.

Ohno can only frown in confusion, halting into a stand still by the door.

Did he get the day wrong? It is Saturday, right? He knows by now that Matsumoto has been closing early on Saturday night because it would give them more time—he has told Ohno that there weren’t so many customers at that time of night and he has made arrangements with some of his Saturday regulars. Did he get the time wrong? He had tried his best to get here on time, on the precise time of their usual dinner date, no more no less. Did he miss any Matsumoto’s last message just because he didn’t check his phone on the short walk from the station? He has turned on any notification coming from Matsumoto’s number—so he is quite sure there was none.

Matsumoto is also not with a customer.

Ohno had his share of meeting Matsumoto’s customers over time. There’s a nice lady who always comes over just a few minutes before closing time since she would be just returning from work; Matsumoto always waits—and Ohno has waited with him—even if she’s arrived minutes after closing for her knowing that she’s rushing home and needs her dry clean ready. There’s also a young girl who evidently has a crush on Matsumoto, coming near closing time on weekends to pick up her father’s suit; Matsumoto told Ohno that her father doesn’t actually approved of her being outside so late at night but going to Matsumoto’s shop is one of her rewards after Saturday cram school and the father finally lets her to travel two alleys away to the shop on the promise that Matsumoto will walk her home afterward—Ohno has also few times waited for Matsumoto to return from walking her home before Matsumoto can close the shop.

Matsumoto is sitting side by side behind the counter with his friend.

The man who ate curry messily when Ohno met him a few months back, Sho-kun, Ohno remembers. They’re facing a laptop screen, shoulder almost touching, with Matsumoto holding some papers while this Sho-kun trying to type something rapidly as they converse in low tones.

All this time, Ohno has never feel comfortable enough to get in the way of Matsumoto’s work; it always feels like he’s bothering Matsumoto’s routine. He tries his best to work their dates around the shop operational hours, allowing Matsumoto to decide which time would be best—Ohno doesn’t have any preference, as long as it is not on work hours, he’d be amenable to any meetings with Matsumoto.

Matsumoto is still working now.

Ohno is quite sure he doesn’t get the day or the time wrong; but what should he do? The feeling of the closing door knob softly hitting the small of his back startles Ohno out from his short daze.

This Sho-kun looks up when he catches movement from the door and smiles when he finds Ohno at the door while Matsumoto takes a split second longer before he realizes another presence in the shop and says, “Welco— Ah, Ohno-san!”

For a short moment Ohno’s focus on the bright welcome, everything else including his convoluted thoughts fading into the back of his mind. Matsumoto’s excited greeting is the welcome he had expected and it doesn’t disappoint; but in the next moment he catches, again, this Sho-kun presence next to Matsumoto and Ohno feels the side of his eyes twitch.

But Matsumoto has already quickly set aside the papers he’s holding, standing up abruptly and startling both this Sho-kun and Ohno. He loudly bumps his knee to this Sho-kun’s chair, nearly slipping in his haste to go around the counter, apologizes offhandedly to no one in particular.

Matsumoto is beaming and slightly out of breath in front of Ohno in the next moment. His hand is reaching out to ask for Ohno’s. “You’re here already.”

Matsumoto’s hand is warm, and while he feels slightly guilty for transferring the cold from his numb hand, Ohno finds it so easy to smile. “Am I early?”

“No, not at all. We’re the ones running awfully late,” Matsumoto quickly says. He glances at the clock on the wall and then smiles apologetically at Ohno. “I’ve been keeping Sho-kun’s hours but we haven’t been able to finish this. He’s not going anywhere till I’m done.”

Ohno’s gaze goes past Jun’s shoulder and meets this Sho-kun’s. The man is seemingly amused in unabashedly watching them from his seat. He nods and smiles politely at Ohno. “Good evening, Ohno-san.”

Ohno is tempted to bluntly say that it’s not _that_ good to see this Sho-kun again, but he doesn’t say anything, settling in a short bow and a noncommittal hum.

Then Matsumoto steps closer, completely filling Ohno’s vision and instantly stealing his full attention, and this Sho-kun is momentarily forgotten. They both are now standing near the door, huddled close, Matsumoto’s hand warm in his hold.

Ohno gives Matsumoto’s hand another soft squeeze, one of their favorite routines they’ve been developing lately. And Ohno smiles to see Matsumoto’s expression softened at the action—which is the main reason he loves the routine so much.

“I’m so sorry.” Matsumoto’s voice is soft and only for Ohno to hear, his gaze piercing, and this close Ohno can see a hint of tiredness in Matsumoto’s eyes. “I know we agreed on this hour, but I really need to finish this tax report tonight so we can have time for ourselves tomorrow. If you want, you can go up first and wait up there. Or—”

Ohno doesn’t need any apology. He knows when work gets in the way sometimes there’s nothing they can do. He knows that Matsumoto also wants to wrap this as soon as he’s able. He understands, so he says, “It’s okay. I can wait here.”

Matsumoto frowns at him, like those handful of times when he didn’t understand Ohno’s reasoning. “But it must have been a long day for you, and it’d be way more comfortable—

“I can wait,” Ohno says with more conviction; he really means it. It doesn't feel right to be up there in Matsumoto’s apartment while Matsumoto is down here, and with this Sho-kun. Ohno will wait. “And here’s fine.”

Matsumoto runs his other hand over Ohno’s arm, his expression searching, and Ohno sees more than tiredness, there’s also a slight frustration and impatience. Ohno gives a short nod, trying to convey his seriousness because he had said it many times, and he will say it again, he doesn’t mind waiting for Matsumoto.

“Thank _you_,” Matsumoto says, giving Ohno’s hand another firm squeeze and finally accepting Ohno’s offer. “But let me get you some tea, okay? I still have some at the back. It’s freezing out there. Go get settled, I’ll be right back.”

Just like that Matsumoto leaves Ohno at the entryway of shop and Ohno blinks in surprise at the sudden loss of warmth. And now that this Sho-kun comes back into view, Ohno catches the last movement of the man trying to pretend that he hasn’t been listening and is currently staring holes into his laptop.

Ohno sighs—he really need to ignore the stares—and takes his seat at the cushioned small bench near the door. Usually a costumer or two use it as they wait for Matsumoto to deal with another customer. Usually Ohno sits here as he waits Matsumoto helping out customers sorting out their last orders at the end of the day before they head up.

He carefully sets the paper bag he brought next to his bag. He pulls out his phone just in time as Matsumoto comes out the back of the shop carrying a steaming mug, and stops next to him.

“I don’t have anything to go with this, but—” Matsumoto says, as he kneels down next to him.

The rest of what Matsumoto is saying gets lost somewhere in the air, Ohno’s chest is tight with feelings he cannot describe, and he has to tell himself to breathe.

Ohno unconsciously holds out his hand and rests it on Matsumoto’s shoulder, not fully knowing how to react but at the same time unexpectedly touched by the gesture. At the corner of his eye, Ohno can see this Sho-kun frowning hard in what it seems to be his concentration face, like something very exciting is happening on screen right now.

Ohno turns to see Matsumoto smiling up to him, completely unconcerned about anything else but Ohno and the steaming mug. “Your tea.”

“Ah, thank you.” Ohno takes it, carefully, and turns to set it, carefully, on the other side of the bench. He turns back and sees Matsumoto is still on his knees, looking up to him with an honest smile—warmth flooded him, heightening his sense and how touched he is for Matsumoto to make time for him, how warm Matsumoto’s hand now resting on his thigh, how Matsumoto giving Ohno his full attention to make sure that Ohno is comfortable even if he’s still busy with work.

“And the offer still stands,” Matsumoto says. “You can go up anytime you want. There’s no need to wait up. I’ve had our dinner in the oven, and all you need to do is—”

He reaches out to cup Matsumoto’s cheek to stop Matsumoto for suggesting things that Ohno definitely will refuse. His thumb strokes Matsumoto’s cheekbone tenderly.

“Take the time you need to finish work. We’ll have dinner after.” This time he means it with all his heart; he wants to wait. This time, Ohno wants to settle this once and for all; Matsumoto needs to work and not spending more time to fuss over him. “_Together_.”

Matsumoto smiles sweetly, fully accepting Ohno’s insistence on waiting for him and that all he needs is to finish his work tonight so he can have dinner with Ohno.

For a fleeting moment, with Matsumoto’s warm touch and smile, everything feels right for Ohno.

Matsumoto then gives him one last smile before leaving him. Ohno resists the temptation to follow Matsumoto with his eyes so he sighs and tries to focus on the steaming tea. He takes one sip, grateful for the heat and thickness, letting the lavender scent of the shop surrounding him, and settles.

If he’s leaning against the wall behind him, he wouldn’t have direct sight to Matsumoto and this Sho-kun working—so he does just that.

He takes in the Matsumoto and this Sho-kun’s voice from behind the counter, of them discussing and slightly arguing: _you have to correctly fill the revenue column first—or else, they will not match the next page, and then it will refuse to save your entry. I did that last night, Sho-kun, and still at the end total is definitely not the same with my books. Maybe you’re forgetting to fill in the exemption declaration? In this column—_. Ohno never hears Matsumoto sounds so serious and focused. It seems they are doing tax, Ohno muses, must’ve been complicated. And he just now remembers Matsumoto said that this Sho-kun was good in math—an accountant perhaps, Ohno can only guess since Matsumoto never really brought it up in their conversation and he never asked.

He takes another sip of tea, slouches in his seat, and stares up to the ceiling. Slowly breathing out, he straightens his feet so now the tips of his shoes are touching the wall in front of him.

All he remembered from today is that he was constantly on his feet: at work he had walked around to deliver documents to those departments on different levels, he then had to queue for a full hour, before heading here. Glancing to the paper bag he brought, Ohno grimaces: there goes his plan of sharing with Matsumoto the slices of the limited fruit tarts he managed to buy.

Ohno’s come to know Matsumoto does not indulge in sweets often but he is always excited to share whatever treat Ohno bring over. And this one is more like a treat for him first, since his monthly performance review turns out to be passable for once.

Maybe he should have taken the offer, Ohno now reconsiders, only to put these delicacies in the fridge upstairs before they are ruined. But Matsumoto’s apartment will feel different without the owner, and somehow, he cannot explain it it’s just somehow, he doesn’t feel like leaving Matsumoto and this Sho-kun together.

A raised voice from the counter brings him out of his daze.

The impatience in Matsumoto’s voice is apparent, like that one time when his plan for their lunch one day didn’t work out the way he planned and they had to switch for delivery. He could also the slight frustration in this Sho-kun’s voice this time: _we need to repeat this again or you’d not get the balance you need. Stop fiddling with that page, that one is done. And no, you need to recheck again. Come on, Matsujun, I thought you want this done soon?_

Ohno takes another sip of tea—it’s pleasantly warm instead of scorching hot now—and decides to tune out again.

He pulls out his phone because maybe some mindless game apps will be the best way to pass time but he finds it tiring after a few rounds, and switches to scrolling through his Instagram feed: nutella in chocolate chip cookies looks really good; a colleague is showing off his Guam family vacation photos; ramen waffles sends him chuckling softly; oh, onion rings with mozzarella and tomato sauce dip looks extra yummy; a professional fisherman from Akita-ken just captured a huge tuna; healthy chic fusion salad doesn’t seem like a good idea; step-by-step of tagliatelle pasta with wine and tomato meat sauce seems like what Matsumoto will like to know; a kanji artist posted two new videos of tracing kanjis with brush pen; there’s a 40% discount of on his office’s stationary chain; toast bacon onigiri both looks weird and tasty; a steaming butaman in literally buta-man shape with its pig face with cute pink ears and comical snout; but who the heck thinks orange chocolate gelato goes well with strips of shiso leaves on top, he frowns—

A gentle tap on his shoulder startles him, and he looks up to find Matsumoto smiling down on him. “Ohno-san, we’re done for tonight.”

“Oh, ok,” Ohno shrugs. He puts his phone back in his pocket and when he looks around he notices this Sho-kun is already bundled up with his coat behind Matsumoto.

Matsumoto then turns and nods to this Sho-kun. “You’re done packing up?”

This Sho-kun smiles tiredly at both of them before slightly bowing at Ohno. “Yes. I’ll take my leave now. Have a good evening, you two.”

Ohno replies with a polite nod, and watches this Sho-kun leaves the shop. He stands up, stretching his stiff back with a grimace, and waits.

Matsumoto gives him a warm rub on his back. “Give me 5 minutes to check on the back, close up, and then we can go up.”

“I’ll wait outside then,” Ohno says. After Matsumoto goes to the back, Ohno gathers his bags and steps out of the shop, finding this Sho-kun is still standing under the short awning of the shop front and fiddling with his phone.

Sensing a movement, this Sho-kun looks up and offers a small smile when he finds Ohno behind him. And when Ohno stands just a few steps beside him, this Sho-kun pockets his phone and turns to Ohno. “Once again, my apology for delaying your plans tonight.”

Ohno finally gives this Sho-kun a good look; he is dressed for work, his dress shirt wrinkled and there seems to be coffee stain near the third button, one of the straps of his large backpack slides off of his shoulder, and like Matsumoto he looks tired.

Suddenly a strange wave of concern comes him. He might not be fully comfortable at the surprise of finding his Sho-kun in Matsumoto’s shop but they must be dealing with something important—Matsumoto never works late when he has a date with Ohno—they must be dealing with something unavoidably urgent. And he has to ask: “Is there something wrong with Jun’s shop?”

There’s a hint of surprise in this Sho-kun’s expression, for the question maybe, before it’s gone with a blink of his eyes. Then this Sho-kun smiles as he answers. “The shop is completely fine, and I’m sure Matsujun can tell you more in details better than I do.”

“So there’s no tax problem?” Ohno asks, before the next moment realizing that he must have unintentionally revealed that he was listening to their conversation.

This Sho-kun only chuckles softly. “No, not a serious problem I suppose. It’s just the newly updated municipal regulation is not a friendly platform, and Matsujun, and also most of the business owners here in the area, have been struggling with adjusting.”

Ohno nods, even though he knows next to nothing about platform and tax regulation. It must be complicated and he is quite thankful this Sho-kun explained it in simpler words.

“He just needs to be extra patient in working with the new tax entry system,” this Sho-kun continues, taking Ohno’s silence calmly. “He often misses saving a page or two so his final calculation keeps on turning into imbalance.”

Ohno decides that he likes the kind tone this Sho-kun used to talk about Matsumoto and the way he is telling the story doesn’t sound like it was a chore, but more like his sincere way of helping a friend. He can at least understand the dynamic of having impatient colleague who is in need of help to finish their task. The next thought that comes across his mind is that it’s nice for Matsumoto to have a friend who really cares. And, he finds himself offering this Sho-kun a genuine smile. “Jun did say you’re good at math.”

“Ah, he did, didn’t he?” this Sho-kun says with a laugh, clearly remembering their first meeting at Aiba’s shop. “It comes with the job though. I work with small business owners in this area and most of the time I provide tax assistance service. I’ve been working with Matsujun since he opened this shop 10 years ago.”

Is that so? Ohno doesn’t know that.

Sho smiles in understanding. “He doesn’t talk about it much, I guess. He should be proud of his business. It’s not an easy feat to keep business running especially in this economy, but he’s doing relatively fine.”

The upper light of the shop front flickers off, and they both turn to see Matsumoto stepping out the shop and locking the door.

He turns and reaches out to touch Ohno’s elbow before squinting at this Sho-kun and asking, “Why are you still here? Were you talking shit about me to my boyfriend?”

_My boyfriend._ Ohno’s cheeks feel warm from the simple address, and he has to swallow his laugh for the question. His hand sneaks up—they are all standing close under this short awning—his palm finds the small of Matsumoto’s back, and stays there.

And this Sho laughs heartily. “Well, I must tell him about all those lines you keep on missing.”

“Go home, Sho-kun” Matsumoto says with an eye roll. When he turns to face Ohno, Ohno has the pleasure to see Matsumoto’s expression softened when he smiles. “And shall we?”

Ohno nods, and he finds himself looking past Matsumoto’s shoulder to check on Sho—who is also rolling his eyes fondly at Matsumoto’s order while muttering ‘meanie’ with a cute pout. He meets Jun’s eyes and raises his eyebrows with a smile.

Matsumoto rolls his eyes again, more playfully, and Ohno can see the hints of smile. He turns to this Sho-kun again and, his voice serious now, says, “Thank you for dropping by on short notice though. Expect that bento payment within a week.”

This Sho smiles. “I sure will. And if you just read the manuals thoroughly, things will work out fine.”

“But I have you on call,” Matsumoto says.

“Still,” this Sho-kun only says. He turns to Ohno and offers a smile, not the polite one he offered before but warmer and more friendly. “It’s good to see you again, Ohno-san.”

Ohno nods, and Matsumoto politely waves at this Sho-kun’s retreating back. The moment the man turns to the next alley, Matsumoto’s attention returns full force to Ohno, his smile bright despite his tired eyes. “Ah, I’m starving. I hope stew for dinner is okay?”

“More than.” Ohno nods with a small smile. He shifts and takes Matsumoto’s hand in his, twining their fingers, and feeling everything finally in place for the first time today.

The warmth of Matsumoto’s apartment welcomes them and Matsumoto goes straight to the kitchen to immediately work with heating up their dinner.

Ohno follows in slower pace. There’s a familiar ease of navigating in Matsumoto’s apartment now—he knows where almost everything is and Matsumoto has stopped being in host-mode months ago, but Ohno is still careful, and grateful for being allowed to be in the space.

He goes straight to the bathroom, relieved to finally able to shed off his constricting work suit, and returns to the kitchen a bit more alert. He stands by the counter, not wanting to startle Matsumoto but also letting him know that he’s done with freshening up.

“Here or by the table?” Matsumoto asks, his concentration fully on the full bowls he’s holding.

Here means by the counter—Ohno has been there quite often that Matsumoto sometimes is being lazy and just settle in setting his plates and eat quickly as they sit on the counter, or even standing up. The table means the living room table—they usually eat there together when things are slow, at the end of their long day and they can take their time.

Today Ohno wants the latter; but his tone is still filled with question, because he doesn’t know what Matsumoto wants—it could be the counter. “The coffee table?”

“Of course.”

The easy answer pulls a smile out of him, and he heads to the table with their drink. It takes them a few more minutes to get everything at the table, and seeing Matsumoto’s focus on arranging their plates and bowls around the table brings Ohno warmth more than the prospect of a hot meal at the end of the day. He immediately takes the side seat to allow Matsumoto to sit by the couch; he must be tired, and Ohno doesn’t mind sitting on a cushion by the table for Matsumoto to have something to lean against and be comfortable during dinner.

Even after everything is set, Ohno takes his time to watch Matsumoto—who’s really starving, and after quickly saying his prayers shoving a spoonful of steaming stew into his mouth. And because he now knows how Matsumoto eats, Ohno waits for him to let out a happy sigh before taking another spoonful, and another. Ohno waits for Matsumoto to lift his gaze from the plate and meets his. When it finally happens, Ohno smiles at him.

“What?”

Ohno only shakes his head, chuckles escaping him, simply pleased to be here with Matsumoto at the end of the day.

When Matsumoto gestures him to start eating, Ohno finally relents and shifts his focus on the plate in front of him. He takes a large spoonful, letting out a hum and closing his eyes to fully savor the comfort, the homey taste and how it immediately brings warmth, this good food. Everything that happened today—what happened at work, the extra wait before he can have Matsumoto for himself, like this sharing hot food at the end of the day—has dissipate into this single moment, beyond his expectation.

This time when he looks up Matsumoto is staring at him with a fond smile, and Ohno blinks in confusion, suddenly feeling conscious of how he’s been eating—is there something in his face, or did he take the eating order incorrectly or something? “Wh-what?”

Matsumoto chuckles, and then shakes his head, before goes back to partaking.

Dinner continues in comfortable silence. Matsumoto keeps sliding more plate, taking the empty bowls to be set aside. He offers Ohno for seconds, and Ohno is about to accept when he remembers.

“Oh—”

Matsumoto is about to ask what’s wrong but Ohno is quicker. He sets his water glass and rises to head to the kitchen where he put down his paper bag before. He returns to the table with it and Matsumoto is following his movement, holding his spoon, with a confused frown.

“I brought dessert.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah but I forgot to immediately put it on the fridge when we got here.”

Ohno sets the bag on the carpet next to him and pulls out the fancy box, setting gently it next to his empty plate on the table. There’s no visible dent or any other damage, and it doesn’t feel wobbly, so he hopes the cake is still in one piece. He slowly peels off the tape that holds the pastry box lid before lifting it carefully and taking a peek inside.

There’s a soft clank from Matsumoto’s side, and Ohno looks up just in time to see Matsumoto’s expression turn sad as he shifts closer to Ohno’s seat.

“That’s from Mouffetard in Shibuya, right? You must’ve queued for a quite a while to buy that.”

Ohno frowns. What’s that? Matsumoto is pronouncing some random sounds that he didn’t quickly recognize as the— Oh, was he referring to the name of the shop, the one Ohno didn’t know how to read, but Google has been kind and all he needed to do was to show the shop assistant the picture of the cake he previously found on the bakery website. But he did queue, and he says just that. “I did.”

“I should’ve pressed more on having you go up first an hour ago. I should’ve told you that I was going to be late so you could adjust your schedule and now your dessert is—” Matsumoto sighs, leaning forward awkwardly and trying to take a look at the content of the pastry box. “Is it ruined now? It must be ruined now. I’m so sorr—“

“Hey.” Ohno reaches out, his hand touching Matsumoto’s cheek softly before framing the side of Matsumoto’s face gently. Ohno wants him to stop apologizing, and he doesn’t like the way Matsumoto looks sad now. There was no way for him to know about the cake, it was supposed to be a surprise. And the cake is fine; his quick peek has confirmed that. Ohno tells him that. “It is not ruined. The cake is fine.”

Matsumoto is quiet before he lets out a soft, “Really?”

Ohno leans back, realizing that they were almost pressed close together, and turns to get the pastry box. He sets them down in front of Matsumoto and opens the lid slowly.

Okay, so maybe two of the strawberries had fallen off. And jelly that holds everything together had kind of melted a little bit so everything is now dangerously wobbly. The row of kiwi slices looks a bit skewed and the lone Muscat grape in the center has shifted slightly. But the pastry—Ohno gives it a soft poke it with the tip of his finger—is still holding strong.

“See?” Ohno looks up to meet Matsumoto’s eyes and tries his best to give a convincing expression. He really doesn’t mind a bit disfigured cake; cake is a cake. “I bet it’s still good even if we have it for breakfast.”

Matsumoto stares at him with wide eyes—it is so sudden and unexpectedly funny, Ohno cannot help to burst into laughter. “What?”

“Having cake for breakfast?” The question is said in a low tone with clear disbelief and wonder, like the thought of having cake first thing in the morning offended him greatly. “I can’t believe you!”

Ohno only smiles; it’s simple logic, he thinks. “There’s coffee in the morning, and that’d be a great combination.”

“You’re serious.”

I am, Ohno wants to say but he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. He’s still chuckling, enjoying the sudden turn of events and the rare look of Matsumoto’s surprised expression. “I’m also too full right now. The stew was excellent.”

Matsumoto visibly flushes before he lets out a quiet chuckle. “Thanks.”

And before Ohno can leans forward and gives Matsumoto the kiss he’s been wanting to give since he steps into the shop earlier, Matsumoto ducks his head, quickly picking up and popping the Muscat grape into his mouth.

“You—”

Matsumoto laughs, one of his cheeks bulging as he chews the grapes, looking so smug. “I’m not eating cake for breakfast though. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

“You’re serious.” Ohno squints his eyes and stares sulkily at Matsumoto, pouting at double losses—the grape centerpiece and the opportunity to share this delicacy with Matsumoto.

“About the cake? I am.” Still with traces of laughter in his voice, Matsumoto leans in and rubs Ohno’s arm comfortingly. “But, coffee for breakfast with you? Anytime.”

Ohno chuckles at the offer. That’s a pretty good deal, and since he now has Matsumoto close, he tugs at Matsumoto hand and kisses him sweet on the mouth. Matsumoto goes soft against him, and Ohno relishes in easy surrender.

He has Matsumoto where he wants Matsumoto to be now.

~

Ohno takes a different route this afternoon and gets off his train one station before his usual.

The line of shops is different from what his usual scenery but Ohno can still make his way around the exit to find the large sign of convenience store. That’s the first sign, Matsumoto said, so he walks toward the corner of the street and makes a right turn. Down the road he finds another small intersection and after checking with his phone, Ohno makes another right turn.

He spots the row stairs Matsumoto said he would find halfway through at the end of the alley. He can see the grey sky at the end of his vision; it hasn’t started raining yet but everything is calm and eerily quiet, Ohno is almost sure it will start drizzling soon.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, Ohno can’t help but chuckle.

Matsumoto’s direction was hilariously accurate: _You will find a wall. Yes, an actual wall will be welcoming you on top of the stairs. In fact if you have time to look closer the moss on the wall sometimes of reminds me of your drawing. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that. :)_

Ohno traces the first pattern he finds in the middle of the wall—Matsumoto was right—and smiles when he feels the green soft bumps and their round vines. This is cute, he says, and it was nice of Matsumoto to make sure Ohno sees this.

But he has to turn left to get to the next intersection.

_Once you get to the next street, it’d be easier. You’re close already! Few more turns! Next, make sure you find the flower shop—it is called Hana, and they have rows of flowers outside their shop, you wouldn’t miss it. And from there—_

Ohno recognizes his last turn, and walks to the end of the alley. The small shop looks exactly the same as the last time he went there with Matsumoto, but he cannot be more relieved when he doesn’t hear any disconcerting sound from inside.

_I truly apologize, Ohno-san, but I can’t think of a better arrangement for us this afternoon. I’ll call up Aiba-chan after this and make sure that he’d be there and ready when you got there. And please, this time everything’s on me. Order all you want. Aiba-chan actually has wide choice of dishes. If you fancy some specials, just ask him and I’m sure you can even have—_

Ohno takes a deep breath and slides the door open. Warmth and the sight gleaming wood counter welcome him, but none of the highchairs is occupied this time. Ohno lets the door slid shut behind him, and for a few seconds he just stands there.

A smiling face, This Aiba-chan Ohno recognizes, appears from the door that Ohno can only suspect going to the back of the shop. “Welcome— Ah, Ohno-san. Welcome!”

Ohno cannot think of any proper greeting, so he bows lightly at this Aiba-chan.

This Aiba-chan walks to the end of the counter. “I hope you didn’t get lost coming here.”

Ohno shakes his head. “No, not at all. Jun provided good directions.”

The smile he sees in this Aiba-chan’s face is only getting wider, his eyes lighting up with what Ohno can only associate with delight. When this Aiba-chan speaks again it’s with a soft tone. “I see. I’m glad to hear that.”

Hear what? Hear that Matsumoto provided good direction? Ohno frowns—but this Aiba seems to be waiting for him to nod. So, Ohno nods.

This Aiba-chan chuckles softly and then turns away to gesture the far end of the counter. “Matsujun has asked for the corner. That’s our best seat.”

Ohno nods again, thankful of the direction. Matsumoto hasn’t said anything about the reservation, but true to his word, this Aiba-chan was here in the shop when he comes in. He takes off his coat—hanging them on the back of his seat—and feels considerably at ease once he is out from his bundle of warm scarf. Sitting from his corner seat, he has direct sight of the door, and a different view of the whole shop.

This Aiba-chan comes across his counter, and sets a glass of cool water in front of him. “Is beer okay? Your first tonight is on the house. “

“You don’t have to—”

“But I do,” this Aiba-chan says. His smile never wavers and alarmingly infectious. “Or if you want something else if it’s too early to drink? I’m sure I can arrange anything for you.”

“Beer is fine,” Ohno says, knowing that he probably will have to accept the offer and this Aiba-chan is already so kind to him that he doesn’t want to be a bother. “I think I will just wait before ordering anything if that’s okay with you?”

“Completely,” this Aiba-chan says with a sure nod. “But there’s no reason to wait without snack. I can quickly set you an appetizer platter. Or, perhaps you prefer a slice of cake?”

Ohno perks up at the offer and smiles. A slice of cake? Sure it might not be entirely the best choice to have cake with beer, at this time of day, right before dinner at that, but the offer is too good to miss. And, although he has planned to wait for Matsumoto, he’s sure it won’t hurt to get something, something light as light as cake can be now—after all he doesn’t know when Matsumoto is coming.

Taking Ohno’s expression as approval, this Aiba-chan quickly nods with a smile. “One cold beer and a slice of chocolate cake coming up then!”

Chocolate cake? That’s his favorite, Ohno muses happily. And this time from his corner seat, he can follow this Aiba-chan’s movement behind the counter, watching this Aiba-chan moves with familiarity, and some occasional stumbles. He’s beginning to get why these are the best seats in the shop.

A tall glass of beer slides in front of Ohno, and this Aiba-chan disappears to the back of the shop.

Now in the empty shop by himself, he takes another deep breath and reminds himself that everything is okay—just another night out and nothing to worry about. This Aiba-chan seems nice. He raises his glass slightly, saluting to no one and nothing in particular, and takes a large first gulp. He sighs in delight—yes, this is just another night out, and Matsumoto is coming so everything is okay. He relaxes in his seat, finally realizing that he was rather nervous before. In his daze of comfort, he can hear the first sound of rain outside. It’s going to be another cold wet night, it seems.

This Aiba-chan returns with two small plates set in one hand, and a pitcher of lemon water on the other. With a swift movement, he sets one small plate in front of Ohno.

“Sorry for that,” this Aiba-chan mutters as he sets the rest behind the middle of the counter. He returns to Ohno with a napkin set and a small fork, before giving a small bow and stepping away from the corner. “It’s a special chocolate special,” he says with a chuckle. “I hope you enjoy it.”

But Ohno’s focus is completely on the plate in front of him. He hunches over to get a closer look of the cake slice. Nothing seems special about it at first look—the dim lighting of the shop is not really helping—but he sees several melted chocolate layers in the middle and blinks in wonderment.

This special chocolate special cake slice looks so good.

He looks up and finds this Aiba-chan already stepping back and now sitting back on a small chair behind the counter. Ohno sees similar a small plate with the same cake slice in front him, fork ready on his hand as if he’s waiting for Ohno to have a taste first. He tilts his head in question and receives a chuckle as an answer from this Aiba-chan.

“I can’t resist having one myself. It’s really that good,” this Aiba-chan says. “No one comes in yet. And if you’re not telling, we can have this as our little secret.”

Ohno finds himself smiling, liking the thought and nodding his thanks. He then returns his full attention to the cake slice in front of him, licking his lips and scooping a generous chunk onto his fork.

This special chocolate special chunk simply explodes into exquisite and delightful heaven inside his mouth. Ohno lets out a long moan and slumps further into his seat with his eyes closed. He takes his time, indulgently, to let the taste of dark chocolate and liquor overcome his senses and leaving him even more speechless.

Few moments later, with his fork hanging in the air, Ohno opens his eyes and smiles widely at this Aiba-chan who’s been watching him. Gone is his initial shyness; gone is the awkward unnecessary consideration. This special chocolate special cake slice _is_ splendidly special. “This is so good!”

This Aiba-chan beams from his seat, raising his water glass into a toast. “I’m glad. It’s one of my favorites.”

It’s going to be his favorite too, Ohno wants to say, but he’s already scooping another chunk—a smaller one this time, he needs to slow down and enjoy this slice for as long as he’s able. The second scoop is just as heavenly; this time Ohno takes his time savoring the taste even if he still sighs in delight loudly.

This Aiba-chan is having his own cake on his seat, with his legs crossed and hunched over the lower counter, not facing Ohno, looking like he’s having a short break from running the shop.

Ohno takes another sip of beer and finds out that he doesn’t mind the unusual combination after all. He licks the chocolate smear on his fork, before setting it down and telling himself that he will have more bites later.

“Is it always like this?”

This Aiba-chan turns to him. “Mhmm?”

There’s a smear of chocolate on the corner of his lips, and he looks a bit cute that Ohno feels less nervous in repeating his question again. “Is the shop always like this?”

This Aiba-chan sets his empty plate away and finishes his water. He turns slightly to Ohno’s direction, but other than that he still in considerable distance, and Ohno who’s now fully relaxed appreciates that.

“Do you mean the quietness?”

“Yeah.” It’s more like the comfortable quietness, Ohno wants to say, but he can see that this Aiba-chan gets his meaning already.

“Mhmm, I’d be having some regulars coming in in less than an hour for dinner. It won’t be too quiet then. But most of the time it’s slow and quiet here on early evening.”

“It’s really nice.”

“Why, thank you,” this Aiba-chan softly said; this time Ohno has the opportunity to see this Aiba’s feature slowly blooming into an ear-to-ear beam. “I hope you both stop by often in the future.”

“I think we will.” I will, Ohno nods with a smile; the promise doesn't seem too heavy to make and at least he is already looking forward to what kind of cake this Aiba-chan will have on his next visit.

The silence in the next couple of minutes is comfortable. Ohno takes few more small bites and sips his beer leisurely; this Aiba-chan is now hunched in his seat while writing in his small notebook. He checks his phone and finds there’s nothing from Matsumoto, but he’s not giving it much thought—for now he has cake and warm place as he waits.

There’s a soft knock from the door followed by the entrance of an elderly couple. This Aiba-chan rises from his seat immediately and goes to warmly greet them, and soon they are seated in the middle of the counter.

Ohno tunes out mostly, focusing on his cake, as the three of them sharing a laugh and this Aiba-chan noting down their order. But he can overhear their discussion about the couple wanting the usual, and how this Aiba-chan cheerfully goes to ready it for them both. A familiar waft of miso fills the shop and at the corner of his eye, Ohno can see the couple smiling excitedly—the lady keeps asking this Aiba-chan questions while the man sits back relaxing as they are waiting for their order.

It’s really nice here.

The door slides open again and this time a man steps in. The couple waves in welcome to the man, and this Aiba-chan comes out from the kitchen to greet him. Ohno frowns—the man looks familiar; and that is the moment he locked eyes with the man. It’s another of Matsumoto’s friend: Nino.

Ohno nods slightly to acknowledge him, and when this Nino tilts his head, Ohno can see the moment recognition hits him and his intention to come over toward Ohno. But, this Aiba-chan already has his hand reached out to have this Nino seated on a chair near the door. And at this distance, he can catch most of their next conversation.

_Is that who I think it is? Yeah. But he’s waiting for Matsujun. You stay here. Don’t bother him. Nino-chan, I’m serious. Let him be. Promise me you let him be. Aiba-chan, it’s not like I’m going to eat him. I just want to talk. You are going to eat him and that will make Matsujun sad. So? Just not now. Please. Just be seated here, and at least wait for Matsujun to come over—then you can go talk to them. That’s no fun. And it’s cold here by the door. It’s raining and windy outside, you know. So, one miso soup coming right up. That should warm you a bit. Just stay seated here in your chair. Maybe I want to try a new chair today, you don’t know that. You never want a new chair. Now, stay here. I’ll be right back._

The couple leaves after thanking this Aiba-chan and greeting this Nino-chan. And then there are three of them. After smiling at him, this Aiba-chan gives this Nino one last warning look before he goes to the back with the dishes.

This Nino stares openly at him, not in a creepy way, okay, maybe a bit creepy, but Ohno only stares back in silence.

The man smirks and they stay like that—more like across the counter and Ohno feels like he needs to be ready for this Nino to come over and start a conversation—although he doesn’t know what they will talk about.

He scratches his itchy nose, and keeps on staring; on the other side of the shop this Nino chuckles, and Ohno starts considering that maybe talking to another Matsumoto’s friend is not a bad idea.

The door slides open again. And this time, Matsumoto steps into the shop. And Ohno cannot help but smile because Matsumoto is completely drenched, and looking annoyed; he waits for Matsumoto to find him on the corner and reaches out and offers his hand in welcome.

Matsumoto takes it, and immediately, in a sad tone, says: “I had an umbrella _and_ a hat, and I still ended up like this.”

Ohno frowns because he doesn't like to find Matsumoto’s hand is cold and wet. He gives Matsumoto’s hand a strong and reassuring grip, wanting to make it warm. Gone is the initial amusement seeing Matsumoto stepping into the shop all wet. His bangs are plastered to his forehead. There’s few water drips on his nape—and the front of his pristine white shirt is wet. He’s holding a damp coat and a flimsy looking hat. And Ohno looks down and sees that Matsumoto is making a small puddle on the floor where he stands.

“Maybe dry up first?”

Matsumoto rolls his eyes tiredly. He drapes his coat and perches his hat on the far stool. “I guess that would be the best. I’ll ask Aiba-chan for some towels.”

Ohno runs his hand on Matsumoto’s arm, and finding that more than wet the shirt is also cold. “Or maybe a change of clothes.”

“Yeah.” Matsumoto only shrugs, and with familiarity goes toward the door and enters the counter—he disappears to the back of the shop, calling ‘Aiba-chan’ and leaving Ohno alone again.

This Nino has been watching them intently, Ohno finds, when he shifts in his seat. They lock eyes again and this Nino smirks at him. Ohno doesn’t know what to do with the attention—and he knows this Aiba-chan doesn’t want this Nino to talk with him now, so he just keeps on staring and sips the remaining of his beer.

Matsumoto returns after a few minutes with this Aiba-chan trailing behind him to get something from behind the counter. Matsumoto now is wearing a loose grey sweater and a pair of comfortable sweatpants, and what pleased Ohno the most, he’s out of his wet boots and now wearing a pair of bright polka-dot wool socks. Ohno reaches out his hand to welcome Jun once again, delighted to find Matsumoto’s hand is warmer now.

This Aiba-chan clears his throat, and they both turn to see him carrying a small nabe portable stove. “Sukiyaki as requested.”

“Thank you,” Matsumoto says, before he remembers he hasn’t asked Ohno. He turns with a smile. “Do you want something else?”

Ohno shakes his head, returning the smile. Nabe or anything hot sounds perfect. They wait in silence together as this Aiba-chan deftly sets the stove and the plates of ingredients, keeping their hand twined together under the counter. Flush of excitement colors Matsumoto’s pale cheeks now, Ohno notices, and he squeezes Matsumoto’s hand in his hold.

Matsumoto turns to him, his expression soft now—and those wet bangs now look fluffy and cute framing his face. “Thank you.”

Ohno tilts his head in question. For what?

“For waiting. For the last minute change of plan,” Matsumoto says, smiling as he now gives Ohno his sole focus. “And for dressing up.

Ohno frowns slightly, looking down to see what he’s wearing. He has no intention to dress up because Matsumoto has said they’d be going out for dinner. He simply picks a decent dress shirt over his old sweater today since it’ll be too cold to wear his usual T-shirt and his usual jacket with the thunderstorm forecast. “I’m not.”

“You are.” Matsumoto insists. “You’re all dressed up and here I am looking like a drenched cat wearing someone else’s ugly pajamas.”

“I heard that,” this Aiba-chan rolls his eyes as he walks toward them with the last plate of vegetables.

Ohno chuckles and smiles at this Aiba-chan before the man leaves them to wait for the ready pot to simmer—he’s thankful to him for lending Matsumoto dry and warm change of clothes. “They’re not ugly. You’re looking fine. And it’s better than catching a cold.”

Matsumoto runs his down over the front of his sweater. It looks comfortably warm so Ohno doesn’t really get what Matsumoto is complaining of—except if it perhaps just him teasing this Aiba-chan. “If Aiba-chan had done his laundry properly, I would’ve had a selection to choose from though.”

It was a tease then, Ohno lets out a soft laugh.

“I heard that too, Matsujun,” this Aiba-chan shouts from the back room. And Ohno glances at this Nino on the opposite corner, who is now watching them with even more interest than before and appears to be thoroughly amused.

Matsumoto raises his voice a bit in reply. “Next time just send them over instead of stacking them on the corner of your room, will you. You never know who’s coming and needing a change after getting caught in a thunderstorm.”

Ohno only hears a laugh coming from the back of the shop and after than silence, and the wonderful smell of coming from the pot in front of them as Matsumoto opens the lid.

Ohno watches Matsumoto begin to add more ingredients, and decides to crack the eggs for both of them and fill up their beer glasses. After a short moment, Matsumoto sets a full bowl in front of him, and Ohno hums his thanks. The broth is heavenly and Ohno laughs softly when he finds that Matsumoto is also finding the tofu chunks too hot and grimacing cutely.

They are in their second bowl when Matsumoto casually asks, “Did they blab any nonsense about me?”

Ohno almost snorts out his beer. He coughs lightly before turning to Matsumoto and sees that it was a genuine question. He glances to the end of the counter where this Aiba-chan and this Nino seem like they deep in fun conversation. And except for the intense weird staring from this Nino, Ohno has been enjoying his time in the shop. “They didn’t.”

Matsumoto sets down his bowl, taking slow sips of his beer, all the while frowning at Ohno with disbelief. “Really?”

Ohno nods as he brings the bottle to refill Matsumoto’s glass. “Aiba-chan is very kind. He gave me the best special chocolate special cake. And your Nino has been staring at me, is starting at us now, but I think he only wants to talk with us.”

“I don’t even know what a special chocolate special cake is. But I’ll ask him so I’ll remember that next time that it’s your favorite.” Matsumoto is still frowning at him but with a hint of a smile. “I should thank Aiba-chan for intercepting Nino later. Talking with that guy is dangerous.”

Ohno laughs. “Because he has all your embarrassing stories?”

“Just why do you still remember that?” Matsumoto groans, now covering his face with his hands. When he finally lowers his hand, Matsumoto sports a very cute pout. “Anyway, Nino will easily take all your attention and I don’t want that. Not tonight.”

“Ok.”

At Ohno’s easy answer, Matsumoto slides closer to bump their shoulders. _Thank you_. And Ohno smiles in reply.

They quietly finish the dish, only asking Aiba-chan for another bottle. Matsumoto asks if he wants anything else but Ohno just hums, content and warm from the treat and company, and easily agreeing when Matsumoto suggests they should take their leave soon.

It takes a while for Matsumoto to go to the back of the shop to gather his wet clothes, leaving Ohno waiting by the door with this Nino.

“Everyone is so adamant in not letting me talk to you tonight. I don’t know what’s their problems!”

Ohno chuckles at the no greeting and just straightforward complaint for both Matsumoto and this Aiba-chan while they are both occupied. “You just scare Jun a bit.”

This Nino’s eyes widen in surprise—for what Ohno’s not really sure. When he smiles next, it is with hints of mischief. “Only a bit, you said?”

Ohno laughs.

“I couldn’t have been gone that long,” Matsumoto says as he strides over the counter carrying a large plastic bag and with an amused Aiba-chan on his heels.

“I’m only being nice, Jun-kun.”

This time this Aiba-chan and Ohno laughs, and Matsumoto only sighs. “Thanks for dinner, and the clothes, Aiba-chan. Bye, Nino.”

“You know I’m on to you now, Jun-kun,” this Nino says, and to add the fuel he raises his glass and winks at Ohno. “I’ll see you later, Ohno-san.”

Before Matsumoto can respond to this Nino’s tease, this Aiba-kun says, “And thank you for coming over. I hope you both had a great time.”

“I did,” Ohno says. “Everything, especially the cake, was delicious.”

This Aiba-kun beams. “I’m glad. Come over again anytime.”

Ohno nods his thanks one last time with a smile before turning to Matsumoto who appears to be impatient to leave and is tugging his coat sleeves. 

“We’ll get going now. See you guys around.”

Outside, Ohno sees Matsumoto shiver the moment he steps out of the shop, futilely trying to jam his hands into the pockets of his damp coat. It is only a short walk to Matsumoto’s apartment but while the rain had stopped the wind is still strong.

“Here.”

Matsumoto turns to him and looks bewildered for a moment before he sees Ohno is offering his scarf. “But—”

“I’m warm enough.”

Ohno is not planning to take a ‘no’ as an answer so he grabs Matsumoto’s plastic bag and umbrella from his hand and waits.

Matsumoto lets out a small smile and takes the scarf from Ohno. “Thanks.”

It looks snug on him, Ohno notes with satisfaction, and at least will serve as an additional layer of warmth at least until they reach Matsumoto’s apartment. He holds out his hand, and Matsumoto takes his. Ohno twines their fingers, frowning a bit at the feeling of Matsumoto’s cold hand—they’ve only been outside for a few minutes. So, Ohno does the first thing he could think of: he brings their entwined hands into his coat pocket and keeps them there.

Matsumoto is staring in awe at him with a sweet shy smile on his face; he seems warm enough now and that is more than enough for Ohno.

“Shall we?”

Ohno nods and they start walking, shoulders bumping once in a while, with Matsumoto giving directions every now and then—Ohno has completely forgotten the route since it was only that one time during day time while everything is dark and quiet now.

“Oh, I forgot to thank you for the directions earlier,” Ohno says when he realizes that they are near Matsumoto’s shop now. “They were accurate and I didn’t get lost.”

“I’m glad.” Matsumoto says, his hand squeezing Ohno’s inside the coat pocket. “You saw the mossy wall?”

“I did,” Ohno says, smiling as he remembers the cute vines. “That was great.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.” Matsumoto nods with a small smile. “And just one more turn.”

Ohno lets Matsumoto’s hand go when they reach the front of the shop. They climb the stairs silently, and Matsumoto quickly unlocks the door to let them both in and leave the cold outside.

After taking his time to take off his boots, hanging his coat by the rack, and setting the umbrella by the door, Ohno finds Matsumoto in the living room with his remote control trying to amp the temperature. Now out of his damp coat, Matsumoto looks soft, but Ohno doesn’t think that he’s warm enough. He takes two quick strides to meet Matsumoto at the center of the living room and wraps his arms around him.

He feels Matsumoto stiffens in surprise but in the next moment he hugs him back. Ohno’s hand reaches up to frame the side Matsumoto’s face and when Matsumoto slightly turns to meet his lips, Ohno kisses him.

He misses this.

Matsumoto’s lips are soft and warm, but Ohno’s hand brushes over his nape and ears, and he has a feeling that Matsumoto’s shivering from the cold, not from his touch.

“You’re still cold,” he says against the Matsumoto’s neck. And when Matsumoto only hums and tightens his hold around Ohno, Ohno drops another series wet kisses, his hands slipping under the shirt around Matsumoto’s back, before he asks: “Take a shower?”

Matsumoto moans his protest, nosing along Ohno’s jaw and clutching tighter. And while Ohno wants nothing more than continuing this, he needs Matsumoto to be warmer, as soon as possible.

Ohno slides his other hand up Matsumoto’s back while tightening his grip on Matsumoto’s hair, kissing him deeper, feeling pleasant shudder coursed through him when Matsumoto only becomes more pliant. One last tug of Matsumoto’s bottom lips and Ohno leans away; this time he’s not asking. “Take a shower and come to bed.”

Matsumoto steals another kiss before he says a breathy “Ok,” and walks to the bathroom, leaving Ohno standing dazed in the middle of the living room.

Ohno has to take steadying breaths before he heads to Matsumoto’s bedroom. The room is chilly but Ohno ignores that for now. He turns on the bedside light and quickly makes the bed for them. Looking around and satisfied by how he arranges the bed, Ohno goes to the bathroom and waits by the door.

Matsumoto emerges a few moments later, steam coming from the inside, and Ohno smiles to see that Matsumoto looks more like himself, fresh and warm now. Matsumoto returns his smile, leaning forward to drop a soft peck on Ohno’s cheek. “Fresh towels are up on the rack.”

Ohno nods, going past Matsumoto and closing the door behind him. Now that he’s enclosed in the room heat, he’s only now realized that the night has been colder than usual and hot shower is exactly what he needed. He doesn’t linger in the shower even if the pleasant heat is tempting and within a few minutes he is dry and fresh. Deciding that he doesn’t need anything but the towel he has used, Ohno ignores the momentary cold and quickly tiptoes his way back to Matsumoto’s warm bedroom.

He closes the door behind him and finds Matsumoto sitting by the bed next to the dim bedside light, comfortable in his oversized long sleeve shirt and sweatpants and waiting for Ohno looking dreamily.

“Why didn’t you put on something on?” Matsumoto asks with a soft smile and an outstretched hand, but before he can say anything else, Ohno has stridden to bed and climbed on to straddle Matsumoto’s lap in swift graceful moves.

Ohno sighs, pressing closer when he feels Matsumoto’s arms firmly around him and rubbing his bare back soothingly. “They’re just gonna be off again soon.”

“Is that so?” Matsumoto says with a chuckle. He leans forward to kiss Ohno’s hair. “Aren’t you cold?”

Not anymore, Ohno wants to say, but he nuzzles Matsumoto’s neck, his skin tingling with pleasant frictions against Matsumoto’s clothes. He lets Matsumoto holds most of his weight and begins scattering wet kisses, threading his fingers into Matsumoto’s hair, and takes his sweet time.

Ohno wants their kisses soft and unhurried.

Tonight he wants to always keep Matsumoto warm; he wants to be this close where everything is heady and fervent; Ohno wants everything.

“Lie back,” Ohno says against Matsumoto’s lips.

Matsumoto slowly complies, taking Ohno with him as he falls onto the bed and embrace Ohno tighter to scoot them both to the middle of the bed. The movement jostles their balance, causing Matsumoto to grunt since he’s bearing Ohno’s weight, but Ohno’s already pressing himself close against Matsumoto and kisses him again.

“Ohno-san.” Matsumoto is already panting breathlessly, his eyes fluttered close, his hands roamed over Ohno’s back and went lower and lower. His hold on Ohno firm but compliant. Ohno knows Matsumoto can easily flip them and takes what he wants, but he lies, right there, with open want, letting Ohno draped over him like a living heated blanket, and giving Ohno everything. “Please.”

“Please what?” Ohno tugs down the collar of Matsumoto’s shirt, kissing and biting the exposed warm skin he finds. His other hand reaches up to tangle in Matsumoto’s hair, pulling lightly and wanting to keep Matsumoto held down right there.

Matsumoto’s hands settle on Ohno’s hips, grasping a tad too tightly, and ground both of them. His hips grinding upward, his lips next to Ohno’s ear, his gasp hot and ardent: “Please let me.”

A delightful heat of arousal courses through Ohno; he shivers from the soft plea, his breath hitching—at this very moment Matsumoto can ask for anything in this world, Ohno will go to great lengths to grant him everything—his chest painful with overwhelming affection.

He tries to move away—for a minute, he silently promised Matsumoto with a soft stroke on his cheek, for less than a minute, he just has to crawl his way to the bedside drawer and get what they need—and one of Matsumoto grip on his hips tightens, keeping him close. Ohno looks down and finds Matsumoto with a soft smile, one of his hands stretching to under a nearby pillow and sliding out their supplies.

“Jun,” Ohno breathes out and bends down to kiss Matsumoto deeply. When he draws back, the sight of Matsumoto’s licking his lips and his heavy lidded inviting eyes, makes his head spin in anticipation.

He scoots down from Matsumoto’s lap, and with both his hands pull the front of Matsumoto’s shirt up to his chest. He smiles at the soft choke Matsumoto’s making in surprise, the thought of having Matsumoto like this excites him. He swoops down to scatter kisses on Matsumoto’s stomach, his hands rubbing Matsumoto’s side, holding down Matsumoto’s writhing body with his weight, and coaxing a gasp of, “Tickles.”

Ohno used to apologize and kiss Matsumoto soothingly, but this time he only laughs softly against Matsumoto’s chest, pinches one of his nipples playfully and does it again.

Matsumoto groans, squirming under Ohno, his hands trying to bat off Ohno’s. “Ohno-san.”

Ohno takes no heed of it, focused on the plan already forming in his mind: he wants Matsumoto likes this, he wants Matsumoto now, and Ohno slides up to sit on Matsumoto’s chest and says, “Hands up.”

Matsumoto quickly complies, and blinks in dazed when instead of pulling off his shirt off him, Ohno moves to sit on Matsumoto’s chest and holds his hands by the wrist down above his head.

Once he makes sure he has a firm stance above Matsumoto, Ohno finally reaches down to stroke his neglected cock. He groans at the delicious frictions he finally feels, throwing his head back to savor the sensation. He’s so hard and it takes all his concentration to keep his touch light and brief. He doesn’t need much now, Matsumoto’s mouth is going to take care of the rest.

“Can I?” Ohno realizes his fingers are trembling as they caress Matsumoto wet and red lips. He wants so much. He still asks first, even if Matsumoto’s eyes had turn darker with want below him.

Matsumoto’s eyes flutter close. “Yes.”

“And like this?” Ohno’s fingers go down to Matsumoto’s neck before his thumb giving the experimental pressure around Matsumoto’s throat.

“_Yes_.”

Ohno has to quickly grip the base of his cock at the sound of Matsumoto’s breathless consent, dizzy with at the eager tone similar to that from his filthiest fantasy, heady at the possibility of more next time. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before he tightens his grip over Matsumoto’s wrists and holds his cock in front of Matsumoto’s mouth. He orders, “Lick.”

He watches with fascination how Matsumoto’s neck stretched forward to reach him, his warm tongue lapping the head of Ohno’s cock up with wet licks, and he wants more. “Open,” he then says, groaning when Matsumoto only does so, letting Ohno’s cock to slide into his messy mouth slowly.

“Fuck. Jun.” Ohno tenses at the hot and wet sensation and the blinding intense thrill to his feverish mind. “Fuck.”

He slowly—everything else around him has faded, only Matsumoto—begins moving his hips to start thrusting into Matsumoto’s willing mouth. He feels himself burning with a single thought: Matsumoto is so beautiful, his submission is fucking beautiful—and Ohno keeps his thrust steady, his pleasure become secondary when he feels Matsumoto’s humming desperately around him. “You’re so good. So good to me.”

Ohno groans loudly when he feels the head of his cock hits Matsumoto’s throat at the same time he feels Matsumoto choke and writhe under him. And he knows he’d come like this if they continue—that’s not what he wants tonight, so he thrusts once, twice into Matsumoto’s mouth and pulls back.

The look of Matsumoto’s face almost breaks Ohno’s resolve to stop this; his mouth swollen and his tongue still out as he tries to chase Ohno and give more. The sound of Matsumoto’s soft broken pleas of, “Let me, let me,” doesn’t help either.

But Ohno wants more.

So he climbs off of Matsumoto’s chest, shivering from the sudden loss of heat, and lies down on his side facing Matsumoto. The cool sheet against his side is heavenly, but Ohno is swift in immediately pressing against Matsumoto before he even asks. He runs his hand over Matsumoto’s chest and stomach, wanting to keep the bare expanse of skin warm.

He peppers kisses on Matsumoto’s jaw, breathlessly impatient, and says, “On your side.”

The moment Matsumoto moved, Ohno stays close and follows his movement, draping his leg over Matsumoto’s waist, heaving himself up and climbing over him again. Not wanting to wait longer, Ohno pulls down Matsumoto’s sweatpants to his knees before ignoring the remaining of his clothes and bending his legs up to his chest.

“Like this?” Matsumoto asks softly, his eyes searching for Ohno’s approval as settles into the position Ohno wants him to be, and Ohno smiles as he nods, immensely pleased of how he seems to know what Ohno has in mind.

Just let me and I will take good care of you, Ohno wants to say. He doesn’t need anything else. He kisses Matsumoto sweetly even if every cell of his body is burning with need. “Like this, just like this.”

Ohno folds one of Matsumoto’s legs further up, giving him room to finally touch Matsumoto and hearing him moans in pleasure. He insistently works his fingers in Matsumoto with steady and slow motions, relishing Matsumoto’s soft moans and breathless whines. In dark delight, he presses Matsumoto into bed, into submission, and it’s not until Ohno’s own body trembling with intense and fiery want—he must have Matsumoto now—that he finally relents.

After dealing with the condom and coating his cock generously, Ohno returns to holding Matsumoto’s in his place, neck craning up to capture Matsumoto’s in a wet kiss, and pressing into him.

They both moan, and Ohno feels everything intensified, his sense sent into overdrive. Both of Matsumoto’s hand clutching tightly into the bed sheet as he looks straight at Ohno with unfocused lust blown eyes, his entire body shuddering at shared sensation of their joined bodies. And still he breathes out his plea, wanting to give Ohno more.

So Ohno begins to move and takes everything Matsumoto is willing to give him. He finds his rhythm quickly, and thrusting faster and deeper until there’s other way but going higher and higher.

Ohno used to hear Matsumoto’s expletives when they fucked as he reduced to nothing but pleasure, him openly begging Ohno to take more and more from him, but this time Ohno can only feel him trembling with overloaded pleasure, twisted in his own constricted clothes and under Ohno’s dominating hold. Matsumoto doesn’t even need to beg because Ohno keeps on taking, and taking everything away from him to only gives back pleasure tenfold.

Their orgasms catch them by surprise, with Matsumoto shouting loud with pleasure and Ohno fucking Matsumoto through the shudders of completion until he comes with violent shakes and blinding climax.

For a long moment, there’s nothing Ohno can do but breathing in Matsumoto and dropping breathless kisses over Matsumoto’s flushed face. When he finally moves away, Matsumoto grunts petulantly at the loss of closeness but quickly settles quiet once Ohno pulls him to sprawl on the head of the bed and onto his pillow.

Ohno doesn’t want to go all the way to the bathroom; only he now regrets his lack of warm clothes. He uses his damp towel to clean both of them, and on his way back from discarding it to the corner of the bedroom he snatches the first shirt he finds in Matsumoto’s clean pile and quickly wears it.

He uses his last strength to arrange blankets around Matsumoto, the way Matsumoto likes it, and with a tired sigh he finally crawls into bed and joins Matsumoto under the cocoon of warmth he created.

“Are you still cold?” Ohno asks he settles next to Matsumoto. He hooks his leg on Matsumoto’s, effectively pinning him into bed.

“No.” Matsumoto snuggles closer, nuzzling Ohno’s neck, and Ohno can feel him smiling. “That was hot.”

Ohno doesn’t mean the sex, but it brings pleasant warmth to know Matsumoto enjoyed that. He smiles, and hums when he feels fingers running through his hair, calming, grounding, and fond. “Can we sleep in tomorrow?”

“We are definitely sleeping in tomorrow,” Matsumoto says, his voice soft.

“Good.” He chuckles weakly, already envisioning a lazy Sunday tomorrow and all he has to do is to be with Matsumoto, and Ohno wants nothing else but that. He wants no one else, but Matsumoto.

Everything is comfortable and warm now. Everything is only about the two of them now. As they both waits for sleep to claim them, he lets Matsumoto touch him all he wants, content in letting him know that Matsumoto has him where Matsumoto wants him to be now.

~

Ohno turns right at the South Exit, going with the pace of the crowd in front of him. It’s a sunny Sunday now but Ohno knows that it’s going to be temporary—the weather forecast is saying it’d be mostly cloudy light rain for the rest of the day.

He was ready to make his way to the first alley turn when he hears someone call his name. “Ohno-san!”

Ohno stops in his tracks, frowning in confusion—perhaps someone was calling someone else—before turning and finding a man waving at him.

Is that?

Is that this Nino? Ohno turns his head around, maybe there’s someone behind him that this Nino was waving to, or that he’s just caught in between other people’s exchange. But then again it seems like this Nino did call his name. He tilts his head in answer and points to himself just to make sure. “Yes?”

This Nino nods and starts to walk slowly toward him, and Ohno now can see his sweet smile—similar to the one he saw on this Nino’s face at this Aiba-chan’s shop a few weeks ago. He stops just a few paces from Ohno and tilts his head in the same angle as Ohno’s. “Hello. Fancy seeing you around.”

Ohno’s frown deepens. Around? He’s not from around here; in fact this Nino would know that he’s here to visit Jun. Coincidence? Or is this Nino waiting for him?

And this Nino smiles again, now in a cute but creepy kind of way Ohno cannot fully comprehend, with knowing look that that Ohno has reached this exact conclusion. “Maybe I was waiting for you, maybe I was not, but we’re heading in the same direction. We can go together.”

Ohno blinks, his mind telling him to not easily trusting this Nino, but he can’t sense any malice from the smile—it is like this Nino is somehow excited on meeting him, Ohno doesn’t know why though. There’s a sense of open curiosity, and since he is Matsumoto’s close friend, Ohno is also rather curious. But before anything, he asks first, just to make sure, “Are you going to Jun’s too?”

This Nino’s expression lights up at Ohno’s question—really, why do Matsumoto’s friends have those looks on their face whenever Ohno asks something to them? It must be something they don’t hear often, Ohno can only assume.

“I can be,” this Nino replies.

That’s a vague answer, but Ohno kind of gets the implied message—he still can say no if he wants, and he has this feeling that this Nino will let him be. He then shrugs noncommittally before turning to start walking to the first alley.

This Nino follows.

It is not until the next turn that they finally walk side by side and at the same pace. This Nino’s shoulder bump into his, and Ohno can’t decide if it’s deliberate or accidental so he bumps this Nino’s shoulder in retaliation, just in case.

This Nino lets out a soft chuckle—prompting Ohno to smile a bit, that sounds cute—and then says. “You know, you've been meeting everyone else and I felt a little bit left out.”

“Everyone?” Ohno frowns before he remembers that night with that Sho-kun at Matsumoto’s shop and the dinner over that Aiba-chan’s shop, and then how this Nino has been silently staring at him back then. Is this Nino talking about that? “I guess so.”

“He’s being extra protective and not sharing you with us. All we want is to get to know Jun-kun’s new boyfriend.”

“He is?” They did? Ohno turns just to see this Nino rolls his eyes; and it resembles so much of how Matsumoto sometimes rolls his so he lets out a chuckle.

This Nino laughs, bumping his shoulder again to Ohno’s—and this time it’s definitely intentional. “I can understand his reason though. You’re very cute.”

Cute?

“Even Aiba-chan didn’t even allow me to talk to you, and all I wanted was to talk to you. Why did everyone keep on thinking that I was going to grill and eat you?”

Ohno remembers that was what he heard that Aiba-chan said to this Nino-chan at the shop. Now, should he be worried? “Are you?”

“I’m not,” this Nino says, and then a hand slaps Ohno’s shoulder playfully. “As I just said, I just want to talk.”

Ohno nods, but this Nino doesn’t say anything else. They just keep on walking in companionable silence and before long Ohno realizes that he’s been matching his pace with this Nino’s; when he usually walks swiftly, this time he keeps the same walking pace with this Nino.

They’re halfway toward Matsumoto’s shop when this Nino asks, “Do you like manga?”

Ohno nods. Who doesn’t, he thinks. “Dragon Ball.”

“Going with the classic. Nice,” this Nino says. After a long beat he continues: “Jun-kun likes H2.” And at Ohno’s confused frown he adds. “It’s a baseball manga. He likes baseball manga, and a lot of other things. He reads mostly the popular ones though.”

Matsumoto does?

And this Nino smiles knowingly and nods. “He does. Do you also know that he played whenever Aiba-chan and I could drag him out on a Sunday? We never like seeing him spending his off day at home being sad about life.”

Ohno stops short.

They are only an alley away from Matsumoto’s shop, just a few meters from the small intersection. This Nino fails to notice that Ohno has stopped and is walking a few steps ahead, until he reaches the intersection and realizes that Ohno is no longer walk beside him.

This Nino turns around in slight confusion—the sun is highlighting his pale complexion, the plastic bag he’s carrying swinging lightly on his hand, his toes curling visibly on the front of his sandals; and Ohno feels the coolness of the air around him, realizing that he’s standing under the shade of a—he turns and sees a shop sign—small café. When their eyes meet Ohno sees this Nino’s head slightly tilted as he looks at Ohno with a sweet smile.

Ohno blinks and frowns. This is definitely intentional, he knows; but it’s rather difficult to wrap his mind around so many pieces of cryptic information about Matsumoto in what this Nino has just said in a very short moment.

Matsumoto reading popular manga? But Ohno doesn’t remember seeing any manga on Matsumoto’s apartment. Books? Yes, a lot of them. But manga? He doesn’t think so. Matsumoto has baseball game on Sunday? But as far as Ohno remembers it was Matsumoto who always suggested they meet on Sunday and invited Ohno over. And sad? About life? Matsumoto is? Was? What the heck this Nino is even saying? Matsumoto is not sad about life. Or is he? Was he?

Ohno’s focus returns to this Nino who’s still standing under the sun at the same spot, seemingly waiting for Ohno’s next response. And he takes a deep breath and walks a few steps toward this Nino. He stops at the edge of the shade, desperately wanting answers but not knowing how to ask his questions.

“He was, Ohno-san,” this Nino says, his voice soft and if Ohno wasn’t standing so near he wouldn’t have caught that. And then he smiles, a different smile this time, Ohno realizes; there’s a noticeable earnestness that wasn’t there in any of his smiles before. “But now he spends his Sundays with you, right?”

Right.

Ohno nods stiffly.

Right. Matsumoto spends his Sundays with Ohno now. All his suggestions always lean toward spending his time off with Ohno, including his Sundays. He invites Ohno over whenever he finds Ohno has free time, including his Sundays. He welcomes Ohno, juggling with his works and making time for him, anytime. Matsumoto spends his off days with him now. Matsumoto was sad about life. So perhaps on the off chance Matsumoto is no longer sad about life; Ohno truly hopes so.

He lets out a small smile at that thought.

And Nino smiles back at him, his hand swinging forward to land a friendly slap on Ohno’s shoulder. The contact feels amiable and Ohno kind of likes it. “You don’t talk a lot, but that’s good, because Jun-kun usually talks and talks and talks—”

It sounds like a playful rib, and Ohno finds breathing easier now. Also hearing that it is good for Jun to be with Ohno from one of Jun’s important people is comforting. Still, he doesn’t know what to say except for something that he remembers from their first meeting. “Is that one of Jun’s embarrassing stories?”

It takes this Nino a while but his frown clears when he gets it. He lands a slap to Ohno’s shoulder, a bit harder this time. “Oh, you have good memories! That’s neat.”

Ohno laughs at the compliment, and for a moment they just stare at each other in amusement. He finally steps away from the shade, joining this Nino under the sunlight, and together they continue their walk.

Ohno has thought that this Nino will go up the stairs with him and visit Matsumoto. But when they get to Matsumoto’s shop, this Nino stops him before Ohno can climb the stairs.

He turns to find this Nino offering him the plastic bag he was carrying. “What?”

“This is Jun-kun’s manga for the month. Tell him that I have duly made my delivery, and that I’m waiting for my bento payment soonest.”

Ohno accepts the bag and glances to find few editions of Weekly Shonen Jump inside. He looks up still with confusion and finds this Nino chuckling softly.

“I run a manga shop near Aiba-chan’s station, and have been supplying Jun-kun’s manga fix for years,” this Nino says. “You should stop by some time. I can be persuaded to give a discount if it’s for you.”

Ohno is silent for a while, considering this Nino’s ludicrous offer and deciding maybe it’s a good idea for later. “What kind of manga shop?”

“Why don’t you come over and find out?” This Nino smiles smugly and gives Ohno a silly salute, before turning and walking away. “I’ll see you around, Ohno-san.”

Before he presses the buzzer, Ohno takes his time at Matsumoto’s porch to check over the now withering plants, and smiles. He doesn’t think they will actually survive and returns in spring, but he doesn’t plan to tell Matsumoto that.

“Ohno-san.” Matsumoto greets him with a smile, and Ohno instantly sees that it is not his usual smile. Matsumoto looks tired, his hair mussed up cutely like he’s been messing with it unconsciously.

“Hi.” Ohno takes off his coat and looks down to quickly take off his shoes before taking Matsumoto’s proffered hand and giving it a squeeze. “Am I early?”

“You’re not,” Matsumoto says with a more genuine smile this time. “You’re right on time as always. Come right in.”

They walk inside and Matsumoto leads them into the kitchen. They stop by the counter, and Ohno sets the plastic bag away for now, his eyes only at Matsumoto now, watching him taking a seat at one of the chair with a sigh.

Ohno turns around toward the living room and he can see the messy coffee table, littered with stacks of papers, Matsumoto’s laptop perching on the far side, and several coffee mugs on the bottom of the table; Matsumoto is in the middle of working with something.

That’s why he looks tired, Ohno concludes. That’s why Matsumoto looks like he’s going to apologize. And Ohno wants to remind him that he doesn’t need any apology, not when it’s about Matsumoto’s important work. He wants to remind Matsumoto that he understands and will always try to understand. He wants to remind Matsumoto, so he says just that: “I can wait.”

Matsumoto chuckles, letting go his hold on Ohno’s hand and rubbing his face tiredly with both his palms. “I’ve been making you wait awfully a lot lately.”

Ohno shakes his head. His hands reach up to gently touch Matsumoto’s cheeks and frame his face, holding him close and making sure he gets this point across this time. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Matsumoto says stubbornly. “I just want us to spend time together but everything is a mess.”

I want that too, Ohno wants to say. But most importantly, he caresses Matsumoto’s cheek, smiling softly, and tells Matsumoto that: “We _are_ spending time together.”

Matsumoto, finally, returns his smile slowly with his eyes fluttering close and face leaning to the simple touch. “I know.”

Now that is the smile Ohno wants, and it feels so good to be able to coax it out of Matsumoto.

He feels Matsumoto shifts and then his arms wrap around Ohno loosely—and Ohno leans in to kiss Matsumoto softly, wanting to soothe and distract him from stress even for just a few stolen moments. Matsumoto hums in delight and accepts the offered comfort. He clings when Ohno tries to lean away, and Ohno chuckles as he grants him several more short kisses.

They stay pressed close in silence for a long moment after with Matsumoto’s head resting on Ohno’s shoulder and Ohno’s hand stroking his hair.

“I haven’t even made lunch. I had a plan, but—”

“It’s okay,” Ohno says, his tone firm. He will keep saying it’s okay until Matsumoto believes it simply because it is truly okay. And Matsumoto still has work and one thing he could offer to help is: “I can do lunch.”

Ohno expects a strong argument or another unnecessary apology—and he’s ready to make his point—but he is getting Matsumoto’s tightening his hold around him instead. His voice soft, with hint of disquiet. “Really?”

Ohno kisses Matsumoto’s hair again, delighted at the chance to help even just a little. This way he figures Matsumoto can get his work done and then they can have lunch. He’s not useless in the kitchen. He asks, “What’s your plan?”

Matsumoto sighs again in his hold. “Curry rice. I have everything ready. I was planning something simple so I can just dump everything in a pot and let it cook while I finish this.”

“Curry rice I can do,” Ohno says. He made curry rice before—maybe not often but it’d be simple enough. “I may not be as good for you, but I can promise it’s edible.” 

Matsumoto chuckles as he broke their embrace, leaning away with a searching look. “I’ll have whatever you’re cooking. Or at worst case, there’s always delivery. You don’t have to do it.”

“All I need to do is to dump things into the pot, right?”

“Fine,” Matsumoto says with a laugh, his eyes bright now and Ohno likes that the tiredness that was there had faded a little bit. “Next time, I’ll prepare one of your favorites.”

You always prepare one of my favorites, Ohno wants to say, but he only smiles; Matsumoto always does this while thinking that Ohno doesn’t notice but Ohno does, Ohno always does when it’s about Matsumoto. “Ok,” he ends up saying.

“Everything is in the fridge.” Matsumoto is pushing off his chair and starts to walk toward the fridge, when he sees the plastic bag Ohno has put down on the counter. “What’s that? Did you bring something?”

Ohno almost forgets about the bag, and now that he sees it again, he remembers this Nino’s last words. “Your Nino gave it to me. He said it’s for you, something about your manga for the month?”

Matsumoto laughs. “Of course.” And laughs with his hands covering his face, standing there his shoulders shaking with his muffled chortles. “Of course, he found his way to you.”

Ohno lets out a smile at the sight he’s never witnessed. He reaches out to touch Matsumoto’s elbow softly. “I’m sorry?”

Matsumoto shakes his head now, and when he lowers his hands Ohno can see he’s still laughing. “I can’t believe he actually followed through his stupid threat.”

“Threat?” Ohno frowns in question; there was nothing threatening with this Nino. Sure, he was a bit weird and talked in rather confusing way but Ohno can deduce as much: this Nino cares for Matsumoto and as the man said he only wanted to talk to Ohno.

“That’s just him thinking he's being cute,” Matsumoto says with a chuckle. He smiles now, looking at Ohno with interest. “Was he nice to you? Did he say something weird?”

“He was very nice, but I think everything he said was weird.”

Matsumoto laughs again at Ohno’s confused tone. “Told you he’s all talk most of the time.”

And Ohno really likes this sight he’s seeing in front of him, really likes the sound of Matsumoto laughing because of the story of him and his close friend. Ohno really likes the man he’s holding. Gone is the tired look from when he opens the door for Ohno. Now Ohno is standing in front of Matsumoto whom he spends Sundays with, Matsumoto who easily smiles and gives Ohno so much.

It finally dawns on him, all the displays of care Matsumoto’s friends have been showing him these past weeks; that Sho-kun shared stories of Matsumoto’s past, that Aiba-chan gave glimpses into Matsumoto’s present, and that Nino, Ohno wonders, must have been hinting about what Matsumoto wants in the future. They all take care of Matsumoto in their own ways, and now that Ohno is here, now that Ohno meets them, he wants to be part of them. Ohno wants to be the one Matsumoto spends his Sundays with; Ohno wants to take care of Matsumoto in his own way.

He tightens his hold on Matsumoto’s elbow, tugging Matsumoto closer, and kisses him sweet with that silent promise.

Matsumoto is breathless, flush on his cheeks, a soft smile on his wet lips, when Ohno pulls away. “Ohno-san.”

He gives Matsumoto one last peck on the lips and playfully shoves him on the chest. “Go. I got this.”

Matsumoto laughs again, his hands now clutching Ohno’s hand. “Are you kicking me out of my own kitchen?”

“Yes.” Ohno nods, serious. “I got this.”

Matsumoto stares at him with that cute expression he always has when he’s worried and wanting to make sure Ohno’s comfortable with something and Ohno just grins and gives Matsumoto another shove. “Go.”

With a proud smile, Ohno watches Matsumoto walking back to the living room still chuckling with amusement. He has an important task at hand now and rubs his face as he turns to look around the kitchen.

Ingredients first, Ohno decides after he sets an empty pot on the stove, before he stops on his way to the fridge and does a double take. He needs to do this perfectly—and a little help would be useful. Taking out his phone, Ohno stands in the middle of the kitchen and begins to browse. He remembers saving few posts about delicious looking curry and ends up scrolling through search results of home-made curry dishes and their recipes.

Rice first then, Ohno decides now. He turns to the other end of the counter, and with the memory of how Matsumoto has been preparing food for them whenever Ohno comes over, he finds the storage, with ease moves to set what he needs for two. The sight of little red light from the cooker blinking at him feels oddly satisfying and he moves back to the fridge.

Ohno stands with his hands folded minutes later, examining all the ingredients he had lined up on top the counter with all seriousness; a plastic of potatoes beside few fresh carrots, two onions—because the recipe he found said two is better than one—and cloves of garlic, and at the end a ready pack of chicken thigh fillets chunks. He remembers Matsumoto like to have green things in his food and quickly returns to the fridge to get the green beans he saw earlier. He adds ginger next to the garlic cloves and sets the pack of curry blocks at the end of the line.

After setting two chicken stock jars next to the stove with a satisfied smile, Ohno rolls up his sleeves, planning to get a knife and start cutting ingredients. He looks down and realizes that he’s still wearing his outer shirt. Frowning in his halt, he remembers Matsumoto always put on that dark apron whenever he cooks complicated dish. He takes a quick glance to the rack on the far end of the kitchen, considers, but decides against it. He quickly strips off his outer shirt, hanging it next to Matsumoto’s apron, and returns to the kitchen; it’s just curry, nothing complicated, he doesn’t need an apron.

He works carefully with the ingredients, trying his best to not making too many unnecessary noises—Matsumoto is hunkered down in the living room, the last time he took a quick glance. With his phone sets in the counter, showing the cooking instructions from one of the recipe websites he found, Ohno starts heating oil in the pot.

It goes smooth from there—and in the middle of stirring the vegetable Ohno remembers Matsumoto’s telling him that it’s just dumping things into the pot, not entirely true but Ohno finds himself agreeing. He adds the stock, nodding in satisfaction at how the color seems to be similar with the photos on the recipe, but on his next check of his phone he notices that he also needs to add honey and grated apple.

He frowns. He knows Matsumoto has honey somewhere in the fridge, but apple? He needs an apple?

He returns to the fridge with a concentrated furrow in his brow. Will Matsumoto have one? He quickly scans the vegetable rack and finds no apple. He sighs—and was about to surrender over the taste complexity of his curry—when he spotted a lone apple wrapped in plastic on the fridge door next to rows of packaged pickles. Of course, Matsumoto has one, he did plan to cook curry.

Ohno lowers the heat of the stove because he now has to grate the apple; wait, does that mean he also needs a grater?

After quick searches in two of Matsumoto’s utensils shelves and coming out with nothing, he accepts his defeat. He sighs and, after giving one long dirty look to his phone screen, gets on slicing the apple into the thinnest strips and chopping them into tiniest blocks. At least after he crushes the result in measuring glass with a spoon it turns into a kind of questionable mush that smells like sweet apples, and everything still tastes good after he added it—and Ohno decides that he’d just go with it.

Few minutes later he stands in front of the stove with warm inexplicable pride, one hand on his waist and another with a wooden spatula hanging in the air over the pot as his curry thickens and turns out exactly like what he’d imagined.

A soft hum from somewhere behind him prompts Ohno to turns. He finds Matsumoto perching on the counter, head propped on his hand watching Ohno with a soft smile, and grins. “Done with everything?”

“Almost,” Matsumoto says. “But it smells amazing in here and I’m hungry.”

Ohno turns to see the cooker has already had its light off, and says, “The rice’s ready. And it’s going to be another few minutes for the curry.”

Matsumoto nods with a soft and fond smile. “Need help with anything?”

A warm wave of intense emotion hits Ohno. Is this the sight Matsumoto seeing every time they share a meal in the quiet and comfort of his home? Is this how it feels to be on this side of the kitchen counter, to stand here and be the one who takes care of the other? Is this how Matsumoto feels when he has worked hard in his kitchen and shared his food with Ohno?

Ohno likes this feeling.

And Matsumoto is still waiting. He is always patient when it comes to Ohno and now that Ohno has seen how frustrated he was with work and lingering tasks, he is even more grateful for everything Matsumoto has decided to share with him. He wants to rush over to the other side of the counter and kisses Matsumoto. He wants to tell Matsumoto that he’s grateful for everything. Matsumoto has placed his trust in Ohno, since the beginning. Matsumoto knows, Ohno belatedly realizes, he has known since the beginning.

_I love him._

Ohno breathes out the breath he doesn’t know he’s holding, realizing that in his thoughts he has closed his eyes right there in the middle of Matsumoto’s kitchen with spatula in hand.

“Ohno-san?”

He can hear the worry in Matsumoto’s voice, and in the next moment feels Matsumoto’s presence next to him. A hand softly touches his shoulder.

“Are you forgetting something with the curry?” The please don’t worry goes unspoken but it’s clear enough for Ohno to feel.

Ohno looks into Matsumoto’s eyes, and promises himself that he will kiss Matsumoto later. “Jun.”

Matsumoto blinks with slight confusion. “Yes?”

“I think I made some weird chicken curry,” Ohno ends up saying. And to make his point, he waves the spatula he’s still holding.

Matsumoto laughs at that, and Ohno basks in the beautiful sound he now craves and cherishes with all his heart. He doesn’t think he can say what had just crossed his mind, but he trusts Matsumoto will know. In time.

“I’m fine with whatever you’re cooking,” Matsumoto says, laugh still in his voice. In the next moment, his expression turns serious and he bends over to take a closer look of Ohno’s white shirt. “But you ruined this shirt. Why didn’t you put on the apron?”

“It’s just curry.” Ohno looks down and sees Matsumoto is frowning over scattered small curry stains now dirtying the front of Ohno’s shirt.

Matsumoto says, his voice serious: “They’re not serious but I think you need to leave this here.”

Matsumoto says something else about dealing with Ohno’s shirt first thing tomorrow morning, but Ohno is not listening anymore.

He sees them.

He sees them now on the same side of the counter, him standing with the damn spatula, the curry and rice he cooked for their lunch behind him, and Matsumoto showing so much care for some silly stains on Ohno’s simple shirt.

He sees them taking care of each other.

He sees them together.

*

He stirs when he feels a shift of the couch on his side and soft pokes on his chest.

It’s still a few long seconds before Ohno gets a good grasp of everything. Slowly the last hour returns to him: him beaming throughout the lunch because Matsumoto had been praising him nonstop for his weird curry; him finding his curry was even better than he expected and Matsumoto had a jar fukujinzuke so it made the dish even tastier; him laughing at Matsumoto’s shock’s face when he saw Ohno kept on sprinkling shichimi to the whole surface of his curry; him taking his coffee to the living room and sitting down on the end of the couch as Matsumoto tried to finish his work.

He opens his eyes slowly and meets Matsumoto’s bright and beautiful grin. It could only mean one thing. Matsumoto’s hand now framing the side of Ohno’s face is warm. He closes his eyes again and let himself lean into the touch. “Done with everything now?”

“Finally.” Matsumoto nods comically, and Ohno wants to join his apparent joy but everything was pleasantly fuzzy. “I’m all yours now.”

_Yes, you are._

But Ohno doesn’t feel like moving and nothing Matsumoto says could possibly make him leave this couch right now. The next thing he knows, he hears Matsumoto hums and feels a soft pair of lips against his, a soft stroke on his hair. Ohno sighs, melting even further to the couch, his hand reaching out to grab the closest part of Matsumoto he could reach and pull him closer. “Here’s good.”

Another soft kiss before Matsumoto says: “It’s already late afternoon.”

That’s good to know, but he’s still not opening his eyes now. It’s too much effort. He pulls Matsumoto again and hums happily when he feels Matsumoto’s body against his side; their bodies huddled close on the couch now.

“Ok.” With a strain, Ohno shifts and makes more room for Matsumoto to settle with him. He wants to open his eyes knowing that he will be greeted with soft eyes and messy hair and generous smile. He wants to keep Matsumoto close and warm but his uncoordinated limbs can only do as much.

The puffs of Matsumoto’s warm breath tickle his neck when he presses himself against Ohno, settles comfortably as he drops soft kisses along Ohno’s neck. “What do you want, Ohno-san? I’ll do anything.”

“I want a nap with you now.”

“Of course,” Matsumoto says against his hair, and Ohno breathes him in. He smells like his shop, like comfort after a long day. His hand now looped loosely around Ohno’s middle, his heat warming Ohno’s side. He feels Matsumoto kisses him again and now that he has Matsumoto close and warm sleep easily takes him once more.

~

Ohno, again, turns right at the South Exit. His steps are sure, eyes searching between the unexpectedly crowded this Saturday morning commuters, before he finds Matsumoto standing—just like he said he would be—next to the news stand by the udon shop.

Matsumoto has texted him just before he boarded his train, asking him if he’s already on his way now. Ohno told him he’s going to be there soon; but then Matsumoto asked for the time estimation, saying that he’s out getting groceries and if time is right he could meet Ohno at the station.

A smile is already forming in his face upon seeing Matsumoto busy with his phone, not caring of the passerby around, just standing there with clutching on his coat in the cold. His other hand is holding a large bag; that’d be his groceries Ohno notes. He tries to remember what Matsumoto has been telling him about his plan—but most probably they will have nabe for lunch. It’s been getting colder at this time of year and nabe is always a good choice.

Ohno stops in front of Matsumoto and waits.

Matsumoto looks up from his phone, and smiles. “You’re here.”

Ohno nods, returning the smile easily. It’s only been a week since their last weekend date and he misses Matsumoto already and is looking forward to spend the day with him.

Matsumoto seems like he’s trying to find something, or someone, in the thinning station crowd. “Good. I got to you first.”

Ohno frowns. “What is it?”

Matsumoto’s expression is serious as he answers. “I just want to make sure Nino is not around to ambush you again.”

Ohno lets out a chuckle. He has only known this cute side of Matsumoto weeks ago but it still feels new and is always endearing to witness. He remembers Matsumoto tell them that his friends had teased him about Ohno few days ago, and that this Nino was very proud of being able to outwit Matsumoto and found his way to talk to Ohno. “Was there another ‘threat’?”

“I don’t like that he now has developed a liking on you. It’s always difficult to predict his next move so I’m not taking any chances,” Matsumoto says with one of his rare pouting expressions.

Ohno laughs at that—Matsumoto has absolutely nothing to worry about this Nino and him. When Matsumoto finally returns his attention to Ohno, he can see the cold flush on Matsumoto’s cheek, and he realizes that Matsumoto is not entirely dressed to be out in the winter morning.

Ohno reaches out to touch Matsumoto’s elbow. “How long have you been standing here by the way?”

“A while,” Matsumoto says, which Ohno can easily deduce means that he probably has been waiting for Ohno for some time. He now looks sheepish, his shy smile making his cold cheeks pinked even brighter. “I didn’t think it would get this cold.”

“Here.” Ohno quickly unravels his scarf and offers them to Matsumoto.

“But how about you—”

“The train was crowded. I’m warm enough,” Ohno says, as if it can explain everything. And just to make sure, he grabs Matsumoto’s groceries bag and leaves him with no choice.

Matsumoto mumbles his thanks softly, his eyes lit up at the new layer of warmth as he wraps it around his neck.

Now, he’s warm, Ohno smiles in satisfaction at the sight. Now, they’re set.

“Shall we?” Matsumoto asks. And then a beat of pause before he adds softly, his smile warm and soothingly familiar. “Go home?”

.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how long this series will run, and I really hate to make promises I can’t keep, but as long as there’s a piece of story I can explore, this universe will expand further. On that note, thank you for this November and I'll see you next year! ;)
> 
> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gomusshroom) if you're up for fic talk <3


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